


Can I Quote You on That?

by Pollydoodles



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 05:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5955589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pollydoodles/pseuds/Pollydoodles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So … Your name is?”</p><p>The reporter looked up at her in a manner that conveyed exactly how she felt about getting Darcy to interview, rather than, say, six foot odd of star-spangled muscle and heroic jawline. Darcy felt her own jaw clench. </p><p>“I’m uh, I’m Darcy.” She said, the words catching in her throat as she said them. The reporter, impossibly blonde, tanned and manicured to within an inch of her life, raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Lewis.” The brunette finished lamely. “It’s, um, Darcy Lewis.”</p><p>The reporter made a scribble on her notepad which looked suspiciously unlike the words Darcy Lewis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can I Quote You on That?

“So … Your name is?”

The reporter looked up at her in a manner that conveyed exactly how she felt about getting Darcy to interview, rather than, say, six foot odd of star-spangled muscle and heroic jawline. Darcy felt her own jaw clench. 

“I’m uh, I’m Darcy.” She said, the words catching in her throat as she said them. The reporter, impossibly blonde, tanned and manicured to within an inch of her life, raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Lewis.” The brunette finished lamely. “It’s, um, Darcy Lewis.”

The reporter made a scribble on her notepad which looked suspiciously unlike the words Darcy Lewis.

Darcy resisted the urge to hide behind a couch cushion. 

“Right. And you’re-“ 

Blondie paused, running her eyes over Darcy and taking in the jeans, the over-sized hoodie, the mis-matched socks, definitely noticing the chipped nail varnish and quite probably somehow seeing that the underwire on her bra was very close to poking through on the left hand side. Yeah, okay, I get it, Darcy thought furiously, even as the heat rose in her cheeks and she could feel the pink tinge start to spread across her face. I’d be third choice for the Sears catalogue and you’re front page Italian Vogue. 

“-an Avenger?” There was, not surprisingly, a large serving of disbelief served up with the question. 

“Um, well, no.” Darcy’s mouth said, whilst her internal monologue screamed in addition obviously, you perma-tanned idiot. 

“So you’re a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent?” Darcy shook her head dumbly. 

“No, no – I work alongside Jane Foster-“

Heidi Klum 2.0 cut her off. “That’s Jane Foster, PHD? Graduated top of her class at Princeton, has been headhunted by most major world scientific reserves and is widely acknowledged to be the foremost authority on the Einstein-Rosen Bridge theory?” It was posed as a question and Darcy had no clue why, the woman seemed to be a walking Wikipedia article all on her own. 

“Uh, yeah. I mean, before that she was just chasing twisters in Albuquerque like regular people. Well, I guess not regular people…” Darcy’s laugh died in her throat as Journalist Barbie looked scandalised at her description of the boss lady. 

“So you’re a scientist.” This was the first non-question and addressed firmly to the little black Dictaphone between them on the coffee table. Oh boy. Darcy mentally face-palmed herself. Why did Pepper think this was a bright idea?

“Nuh- no.” Darcy sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and an expression passed over the reporter’s face which strongly suggested that she was considering ways to either kill Darcy or herself. “I help out.” Her voice rose slightly and she hated the way it sounded as though she was doubting herself. Except, she was. 

Ugh, said Darcy’s inner petulant thirteen year old, who’s snapping gum in her day-glo hi-tops and giving the world attitude in a way that Darcy really can’t right now. So sue me. I never pretended to be special, I never made out that I’m something I’m not and it’s not my fault you’re stuck with me instead of someone who’s actually interesting. 

“You help out.” America’s Next Top Journalist said flatly. Yeah lady, I help out. It’s not easy living with gods and scientists and neurotically dangerous people who could just as soon as kill the pizza delivery guy with the keys to his own moped as the invading aliens if they flipped the wrong way. And frankly with some of them it’s touch and go dependant on the daily coffee quality. 

Except she can’t say that, even though it’s the truth, because if she did then the world would fall apart; or at least America, or at least New York or even really just Darcy’s world because it’s important that people believe that The Avengers are above petty human things like feelings. 

So she sucks the unspoken words back in and chews them down before fixing The Real Journalist of New York with a saccharine smile so full of teeth and repressed anger that the other woman actually jerks back in her seat a little. “Filing.” She chokes out. “I do filing. Important filing. Cross-referencing, bibliographies, footnotes. Pretty sure Jane’s paper on magnetohydrodynamics and non-linear dynamo theory wouldn’t have packed half as much of a punch without the appropriate footnotes.”

The two women stared at each other across the coffee table, one willing the other to just wrap it up and go away and the other fixing her subject with as close a look as could pass for pity without being forthrightly obvious about it.

“I mean, everyone loves a footnote, right?” Darcy finished up weakly. “Discworld was practically run on the humble footnote.” Blondie gave up any attempt to cover the pity gaze and just shook her head sadly. From her vantage point opposite Darcy thought she might be able to make out an upside-down scribble that looked a lot like community outreach programme, followed by a prominent question mark. An underlined question mark. 

Oh for- Darcy sighed, and rubbed her eyes with hoodie-covered palms. She felt a deep shift in the couch next to her which bounced her up slightly and when she took her hands away from her eyes Little Miss Reporter suddenly looked a whole lot more interested. 

Sneaking a side glance to her right, she finds that Bucky has dropped his not inconsiderable mass into the couch next to her. His deep blue eyes regard her from behind shaggy dark locks and Darcy furiously emits save me vibes in his general direction. Jessica Rabbit across the table stretches out legs that belong rightfully to a sixteen year old Brazilian model and leans toward Bucky, smiling gently. 

“So this is Bucky Barnes,” and Darcy cringes to hear the breathy quality now in the other woman’s voice. “Childhood best friend of Steve Rogers, decorated war hero, founding member of the Howling Commandos and-“

“No.”

The words die on red-splashed lips, and the reporter hesitates, for the first time today unsure of herself.   
“No?” She laughs, trying to recover her composure, and tosses a mane of unfairly glossy blonde hair over her shoulder as she does so. “I’m afraid you really are quite the recognisable figure, Mr Barnes-“

“No, you don’t speak to her that way.” 

The words rumbled out of Bucky like a growl and, with that, he leaned forward and picked up the little black Dictaphone in his left hand and squeezed. Darcy looked on with wide eyes as springs and bits of plastic casing dropped onto the glass table, clinking off the surface and bouncing god knows where. Bucky dumped what remained of the machine and got up from the couch. 

Blondie’s bottom lip threatened to detach from her face as her jaw continued to drop. Both women watched in silence as Barnes exited the common room without so much as a backwards glance. 

“I think maybe you should-“  
“I’m going to just-“  
“Pepper can give you some quotes-“  
“Yes, yes, that’s fine, fine-“

Darcy wasn’t sure she’d ever seen anyone in such high – or expensive – heels move so fast before.   
It was supremely satisfying.


End file.
